


Raised You Better

by Bam4Me



Series: Gotta Keep It Together [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Caregivers Clint and Phil, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, De-Aged Tony Stark, First of a series, Future Non-Sexual Age Play, Gen, M/M, Natasha is the comic Natasha fight me, Nesting Clint Barton, Vent Nests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: Tony is 100% sure all these stupid baby emotions are making him dependent on Clint and Phil, and he's also pretty sure they're making him like them more than usual.(Story starts after Tony is deaged be warned it doesn't explain how.) Tony gets turned into a child, and finds out he likes childhood a lot more this time around, and maybe later on he finds out it doesn't have to be the end.





	Raised You Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princelokiofasgard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelokiofasgard/gifts).



> CUDDDDDDDDDDDDDLES
> 
> avengersnonsexualageplay.tumblr.com

So, Tony Stark, was apparently, just as fudging adorable as a child, as he was when he was drunk. That is, to say, that he was clingy, had big eyes, and whined at everything. It was almost uncanny.

 

“That’s the third wall he’s run into, today.”

 

Phil nodded, tight lipped while he and Clint watched the little engineer finally look up from his tiny handheld game and let out a tiny growl, sounding like a disgruntled kitten. It was amazing, none of them had ever guessed that you could give Tony Stark, in any form, a cheap gaming device, and expect it to actually entertain him in it’s actual form, instead of getting him in a mood to make it better, but here he was, completely entranced by Unicorn Mania 3. Everyone blames Clint.

 

He turned his back to the wall and slid down it, still playing the tiny game. Tony was probably gonna kill him when he was an adult again. Phil didn’t see anything wrong with giving the toddler something to distract him though.

 

He sighed, looking back down at his paperwork. “Clint, it’s nearly lunch. You should take him back upstairs before Steve gets upset.”

 

Clint nodded, watching the toddler sit on the floor with his game for a few more minutes before sighing and getting up. “You want something?”

 

Phil shook his head as the archer picked up the boy. Tony made a slight whining noise, till Clint flipped him around in his arms, so he was sitting across Clint’s forearm, facing outwards with the other arm keeping him in place. Tony was okay with this position, because it left his hands free to keep playing his game. Clint cooed down at the small boy. Christ, Tony was cute when he wasn’t speaking. Actually, he was cute when he spoke too, but mainly because Clint likes people who babble a lot.

 

“No, I’m good. Just get up there before Steve goes on a rampage to make sure we haven’t killed him yet.”

 

Clint snorted, “As if. I don’t know about you, but I _like_ him like this.”

 

Phil nodded, a small smile in place. Clint left going for the communal floor for lunch.

 

Tony was just so tiny and sweet like this. He remembered who he was, but overall, seemed to have childish interests and wants. Clint gently bounced the two year old in his arms a little when Tony fussed some at being held for so long. “Calm down, little bird. It’s time for lunch, then you can keep playing.”

 

If he can stay awake past naptime, that is. Tony was still showing some massive signs of insomnia though, even now as a toddler, and Clint hoped that he would at least lie down with him on the couch after they eat, because Tony has _not_ slept nearly enough since getting so small a few days back.

 

The communal floor had several others in the kitchen already, and Clint grinned brightly at all of them when they just stared at him, wondering why he was so cheerful. Who could be so happy when taking care of a baby all the time? Clint, apparently.

 

Well, actually, he wasn’t the only one who liked kids. He put the toddler in the high chair at the end of the table, letting him keep his hand held game for now, making the transition surprisingly easy. Tony _hated_ the high chair. He wanted to be _free_.

 

But right now he was distracted, and only really looked up from the game when he heard all the new voices. He whined a little when he saw where he was, big tears welling up in his eyes for a moment at the pure _treachery_ of it all, devastated that Clint -the man who fed and clothed him, literally, and also gave the world’s bestest snuggles along with Phil- would _betray_ him like this? It isn’t so nice? What, the, heck?

 

“Hey there, buddy, what’s with that face, Clint is still here, see, he’s just over at the counter making your lunch, come on buddy, I haven’t seen you all day, can I get a smile?” Tony’s whimpers broke off into sniffles when he felt a tickly hand on his belly, and he have a half hearted smile towards Bucky, who looked genuinely pleased to see him. That was nice.

 

Bucky just grinned back at him, wide and happy to see the baby in a better mood for the moment. He leaned in and pressed a big kiss to Tony’s cheek.

 

Clint and Phil may have been the ones set on baby duty, and honestly, they loved it, but Bucky was great with kids. Steve was fairly horrible with kids, but he tried, and so they gave him points for that. He was just so damn big, he lived with the constant fear that he would sit on one of them and crush them under his awesome bulk.

 

Tony thinks Steve is weird, with weird thoughts, but it’s okay, the big guy is pretty awesome too. He draws Tony pictures sometimes. It’s nice.

 

Tony didn’t have much time to think about correcting Bucky -with his newly limited vocabulary that everyone seemed to think was _adorable_ \- that he was more upset about the high chair than Clint going away, before Clint was coming back to the table with food.

 

Thank god, Tony is starving. He reached out with grabby hands for the plate of chunked fruits, making eager noises. Tony liked sweet, but not sugary, which was something all of them were thankful for, because none of them want to deal with a baby on a sugar rush. Tony had _tried_ to explain that a sugar rush is literally a placebo effect and Tony could get the same high off of a fruit cup if he had the mind to, but Clint had been petting his belly that day and he fell asleep on him instead.

 

Being a baby was hard fucking work, like damn. He whined again when Clint kept his banana slices out of his reach, making a little cooing noise at him. What the fuck, Clint? He’s hungry, food now!

 

“Not yet little bird, you need something a little more sustainable first. Look, yummy, um… Steve, is this rye bread?”

 

Steve nodded, sitting at the other end of the table with his own lunch. Super soldiers can eat a day’s worth of food in a single sitting, or more, so if nothing, the three of them have learned to cook enough to feed a small army. Plus, Bruce could eat the same after a Hulk out, and Clint has, on multiple occasions, been called a pig, so he knows he can pack it away too.

 

"We ran out of white bread this morning, and going all the way to the grocery store seems like such a trek, you know?”

 

Clint finished cutting up the sandwich with a butter knife, giving Steve an incredulous look before giving Tony the first little triangle of sandwich. Tony gave a happy little hum. He liked rye bread, but Natasha hoarded the stuff like it was gold or something, so it was usually the two of them fighting over the loaf like they were incapable of just ordering more of it. It was like a game. A dangerous game where Tony is risking possibly getting stabbed because she was scary. He’s _pretty sure_ she wouldn’t do it, but mainly because she pitied him.

 

“You would rather risk Natasha’s wrath, as opposed to going ten floors down to the canteen and buying a two dollar loaf of bread?”

 

Tony was making pleased little noises from the high chair, wriggling in place happily. His face was already covered in food. They had previously tried letting him sit in a ‘big boy chair’ like the rest of them, but Tony had less balance than he’ll admit, and all of them feel safer with him there.

 

Steve rolled his eyes upwards with a shrug. “Natasha won’t kill me. I’m _fairly_ sure of it.”

 

“Fairly sure isn’t completely sure. Did you know, she used to throw knives at me when I first got her to SHIELD? She would totally kill you over a loaf of artisanal costs-ten-dollars-a-loaf rye bread.”

 

Steve didn’t look nearly as scared as he should. His funeral. Bucky, on the other hand, was openly cringing. He didn’t like rye bread. Also, he wasn’t dumb enough to piss off someone who had trained in the Red Room with him, but that’s another story. One that, quite literally, involves her throwing knives at him.

 

Tony was happily ignoring them, focused on making a mess of his face that Clint was going to have to clean up when he was done. It was utterly endearing, so Clint finally handed over the fruit bowl, happy that Tony was actually eating for once and not just scarfing down a piece of toast and coffee before disappearing in his workshop for a week.

 

God, this was the life. Tony got cuddles all day long as he asked for them, and occasionally when he didn’t, Steve made him food whenever and didn’t complain that he was a grown adult and should do it himself -Tony patiently reminds him of the omelet incident that Jarvis keeps a record of, and he always concedes that maybe Tony could use a little help. Rude, Bucky and Natasha never complain about cooking for him, but that’s mostly because they both think he’s stupidly cute and like babying him- and Clint kept giving him games and letting him cuddle in his nest with him, it really was the good life.

 

After he’d been turned into a baby, he’d been devastated that he wasn’t allowed to work or stay up late at night, but this was just so comfortable? Why would he complain?

 

Tony let out little distressed noises when Clint attacked his face with a washcloth, getting rid of all the icky foods on his face. He did _not_ clear that as okay, what the fuck?

 

Clint grinned at the pouting baby, leaning in to press a kiss to his nose when he finished wiping him off. He’d made sure to be careful with the cloth, not wanting Tony to get any flashbacks. Luckily, he didn’t seem prone to flashbacks in this little body now, but Clint was one of the few who knew about what Tony’s been through. It wasn’t pretty, but Natasha got flashbacks too. He’s never seen one, but he’s pretty sure Bucky does as well.

 

As big of an asshole as Clint can be sometimes, he would never hurt his friends on purpose.

 

Tony, on the other hand, turned bright red at the kiss to his nose, curling in on himself shyly, a little nervous, a little excited.

 

See, ever since he got turned into a freaking baby and Phil told the team he would take care of him -not _his_ fault Tony had a stupid clingy need to keep Clint in eyesight at all times, hell, not even Tony knew why, and it was embarrassing and dumb- the two of them had been all cute and sweet with him, and he doesn’t know why?

 

Well, obviously, he was the cutest baby in existence, so that had to have something to do with it, but the two of them have been married for so long now, maybe they want a baby of their own and this is their way of reflecting misguided affection on a replacement?

 

Maybe they didn’t like Tony as much as they always cooed at him that they did, maybe they just wanted a baby and would happily toss Tony aside if they got a real one?

 

He shook his head, making desperate grabby hands towards Clint when the blonde finally finished putting the dishes in the sink, _needing_ to cuddle into his stupid chest right now. Why the hell does he even care? He doesn’t! It’s just… he’s got all these stupid _baby_ emotions in him right now, and it’s hard not to remember that he’s a forty year old man? Yeah, that’s it.

 

Clint cooed at him when he had Tony settled down against his chest, sending the other Avengers in the kitchen a wink and a grin when they watched him.

 

“Oh, I think this boy needs some cuddle time, don’t you, baby bird?”

 

Tony nodded sluggishly against him. His eyes were heavy and he wanted to rest them a little. He wasn’t napping, that was dumb, he just wanted a little rest.

 

He stubbornly sat up though, watching as Clint lead them out of the kitchen and into the living room, grabbing a soft baby blanket off the couch and wrapping it around Tony from behind and going over to the far wall with him. He hoisted them both up onto a table with one hand before turning to take the vent off of the wall. Tony made a happy little eager noise at that. Vents meant nest cuddles, and Tony _loved_ nest cuddles.

 

Tony didn’t even need to be carried, happily toddling -in the baby sized vents, which is literally the cutest thing Clint has ever seen- towards the pile of blankets and pillows that Clint kept there for when he wanted to nest on the communal floor.

 

Tony got used to it within three days of Clint moving in. Natasha accepted it from the moment he first broke into her room at SHIELD using the ducts. Phil had been warned about it before they had even met. These are Clint’s favorite people. The rest of the team had accepted it after minimal bouts of confusion and partial anger. Have you ever been so confused it made you angry? Yeah, Clint never saw it either, but somehow Steve can hit that level, it’s amazing.

 

Tony flopped down into the downy nest of happiness and soft, cuddling down into it with a happy pleased noise in the back of his throat. Clint nearly _died_ while watch him, it was so cute.

 

He was about to heave himself up into the vent after him when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around again to see Steve there, a nervous look on his face, and handed Clint a soft top sippy cup.

 

“Need to keep him hydrated, you know?”

 

Clint took the cup with a grin before turning back to the vent. The smile fell off his face as he remembered something. “Tony, baby bird, do you have to go potty before we cuddle?”

 

Tony shook his head, looking unconcerned. “No, please.”

 

Even though Clint knew he’d be changing a wet diaper later, he couldn’t help but praise him for using his nice manners. “Okay, baby bird, thank you.”

 

When they were all cuddled up together in the vent nest, Clint pulled the baby close into the curve of his stomach, Tony’s little snuffling mouth tilted upwards so he could properly suckle at his sippy cup. He tangled his little baby fingers into Clint’s shirt, nuzzling up under his neck, making soft snuffling noises all the while. Clint pressed a little kiss to his soft baby hair, thinking about how utterly _sweet_ this all was.

 

Tony pulled the nub back for a moment. “Story.”

 

Clint smiled, rubbing at his side soothingly. “Of course, little bird. My best little bird, what story do you want?”

 

“Budapest.”

 

Clint grinned. “Cheeky little birdy, huh?” Tony gave him a sweet smile behind the nub of his sippy cup. “Okay, well, it all started when Auntie Natasha and I were on a mission in Switzerland, oddly enough-”

 

***

 

When Tony woke up from the evil nap that Clint had tricked him into with cuddles, they weren’t alone.

 

Phil was here! Yay! Tony really misses him lots! He’s been away from his other caregiver for _hours_ now! Before he could help himself, the sniffles were coming out and he was holding back drippy tears, one hand tangled in either of their shirts, but he lifted away the one in Clint’s shirt so he could fist at his eyes, trying to stop himself from crying.

 

Why was he crying? He felt like such a _stupid_ baby right now, why the hell is he crying?

 

Phil gave a gentle coo in his ear, pulling him back into his chest and sitting up a little more so he could cuddle him there, tucking Tony up against his chest like he was so much smaller than he was, his head in the crook of his elbow and his body against Phil’s. “Hey there baby boy, what’s wrong now? I’m cure you had a good nap, didn’t you?”

 

Tony didn’t want to agree to that. He didn’t want to agree that he had a _nap_ , but through the tears and upset, it was hard to talk. If Phil was going to ask all these big questions for him, who was he to deny him and fuss at it? He shook his head, comfy in Phil’s arms, but still tearful and needy.

 

“Was it because you missed Phil while he was working, baby bird?”

 

Tony let out a little choked off whimper, nodding as he looked up at the man. He didn’t get it, he was never so clingy to Clint and Phil before he got turned into a baby. He was an adult, and he should act like it.

 

But he can’t help himself, over the past week, and it’s only even been that long, over the past week, they’ve become his whole world in that short time. All he could think about was how important they were. When he would next get to play castle with Clint, or when the three of them would have more nest cuddles in the vent, or if Phil would read him stories before bed and use his silly voices. He was turning into a little boy… and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was comfortable here.

 

He was finally calmed down and he found himself being cuddled between the two of them still in the nest, a little hand clenched in either of their shirts as he held them close. Yes, he was comfortable here.

 

***

 

Which is why it hurt just that much more when he woke up in his own bed the next day, adult.

**Author's Note:**

> avengersnonsexualageplay.tumblr.com
> 
> The next fic will be set a LITTLE bit later and it's gonna feature manic!Tony and more cuddles.


End file.
